


A List of the Lost

by Moose_and_Destiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bisexual Dean, Cigarettes, Destiel - Freeform, Drinking, F/M, M/M, Punk Dean, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-25
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-08-17 06:57:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8134538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moose_and_Destiel/pseuds/Moose_and_Destiel





	

Dean took a deep breath as he walked into the tattoo parlor, taking his usual seat and slipping off his leather jacket, exposing a sleeve of tattoos on each of his arms. 

"Getting another name today, Winchester?" 

Dean nodded sadly.

"Who this time?" 

"My Dad. He uh...gave himself alcohol poisoning last week." 

"I'm sorry for your loss."

Dean shrugged. He was so used to losing everyone close to him, the pain had been reduced a dull, numbing ache that gnawed at him, always there, but never lethal. 

The artist pulled up a chair and took Dean's arm, examining the list of names already inked into his skin. The list started at his shoulder and was already past his elbow. The name at the top read "Mary Winchester" and had two angel wings on each side. In the same spot on his left shoulder, he had the lyrics to Hey Jude by The Beatles. "You ready?"

"As I'll ever be." Dean sighed, the familiar sting of a new tattoo soothing the dull ache he felt in his chest. 

Dean walked out of the parlor several hours later, his arm in a new bandage. He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of the pocket of his leather jacket and lit one, letting the gray smoke rush out of his mouth as he took another drag. He shook his head, climbing into the Impala and starting it up, letting his left hand with the cigarette between his fingers hang lazily out the window. His first instinct was to drive to the bar, drown the last of his pain in vodka, but he couldn't so much as look at a drink since he'd gotten the news of his father, thinking drinking would be disrespectful to him. Instead, he drove to the motel he and his brother were staying in, the tenth one for that month. Dean pulled up to the parking lot, took a final drag of his cigarette and extinguished it before walking inside, knowing Sam would give him shit if he saw him back at his old habits again.

"Got the new tattoo?" Sam asked, looking up from his laptop. 

Dean nodded. "Yeah."

"Can I see it?"

Dean nodded again and slid his jacket off, the pack of cigarettes sliding out of his pocket and dropping at his feet. "Shit," he mumbled.

Sam shook his head and stood up, snatching the pack away. "Dean, you promised you wouldn't." 

Dean shrugged. "You can't control me, Sam. 

"Yeah, but what's Cas gonna think when he finds out?"

Dean crossed his arms. "He's not gonna find out, now is he, Sammy?" 

"He will if you don't stop."

Dean held his hands up in defeat. "Alright, alright. Now you wanna see it or not?"

"Yes, I do." 

Dean unwrapped the bandage and held his arm up for Sam to see. "John Winchester" was inscribed in black, cursive letters, a Taurus model 92 9 mm gun on each side of his name. 

"It's great, Dean."

"It'll be better when it heals." Dean wrapped it back up and slid his jacket on, slipping the extra pack of cigarettes he hid into his pocket. "I'm going out. Catch ya later, Sammy." Dean locked the door behind him and walked behind the motel, lighting another cigarette and pulling his phone out to call Cas.

"Dean?" 

"Hey, baby. Wanna go out with me for a bit?"

"I would love to, Dean." 

"Great." Dean hung up and exhaled, letting a final cloud of smoke rush out from his lips before he stomped it out.

Cas appeared in front of him moments later, his hair tousled from the wind. 

"Hey, angel." Dean pulled Cas close to him and kissed him, running his fingers through his wild hair.

Cas pulled away, crossing his arms. "Dean, have you been smoking again?"

 

"What? N-no." He hung his head in shame. 

"Dean, you promised." 

"Yeah, I know I did. I already got this shit from Sam. I don't need it from you!" He snapped, immediately regretting his words as soon he saw the look of hurt in Cas's eyes. "Cas, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you."

Cas didn't respond. He turned his back to Dean and walked away slowly, then disappeared. 

"Goddammit!" Dean punched the brick wall of the motel, his knuckles bleeding. He shook his head and walked inside, taking the bandage off of his arm and wrapping it around his hand. He called Cas again, but it went to voicemail. He didn't expect the angel to pick up, but it still disappointed him. 

 

Dean lay awake in bed that night, staring up at the ceiling. He felt cold without his angel next to him like he always was. He stayed in the same position until the sun rose, replaying what he'd said to Cas over and over. It seemed like nothing to him, but he snapped at Cas way too often, for things that were never his fault. Maybe Cas had finally realized this and left, and Dean didn't blame him. His fears were confirmed as soon as he saw the note next to his pillow, scribbled in Cas's familiar handwriting. Usually, it would make Dean smile. The same curly letters were often poetry about bees or nature and sometimes even Dean, but this time, seeing his name in those letters broke him as he skimmed the paper. 

'Dean, 

I am afraid I can no longer commit to this relationship any longer. I have tried to reason with you, but you are too stubborn. Everything I have done was to try to help you, but you do not seem to understand that. I love you, Dean, I truly do. That is why it breaks my heart so much to have to write this. Goodbye, Dean. 

~Castiel.' 

Dean crumbled up the note and shoved it into his pocket, walking back to the same spot and punching the brick over and over until both of his knuckles broke. The pain was nothing compared to the letter Cas had written. He didn't bother to fix them up, wanting them to ache, to replace the anguish of his broken heart. Nothing, not even his father's death amounted to this pain, and the numbing in his chest was slowly turning lethal. 

Dean hopped into the Impala and drive straight to the bar, getting himself drunk enough to feel a slight buzz, just enough to take the edge off, but not so much that he'd lost his senses. He picked up a girl and brought her back to the motel, drowning his hurt in meaningless sex, his mind too distracted to so much as pay attention to her. That's all he wanted, another body he could hold; someone to keep him warm at night, but this girl was cold. She was pretty and seemed nice enough, but it wasn't cutting it for him. Dean didn't sleep a wink that night either, despite the overwhelming exhaustion that consumed him with each breath. This wasn't what he wanted, another body to keep him warm. He wanted Cas, and not just his body. He wanted his heart, his mind, his soul, everything, but he was too late. 

 

Little did Dean know that Cas was in the doorway of the motel room, his figure masked by a dark shadow in the moonlit room. Cas needed Dean as badly as Dean needed him, but all he saw was the blonde girl with the large bust in his arms and he was reminded of why he'd left. Dean was his poison, just as deadly as the cigarettes in Dean's leather jacket pocket. Cas left with a fresh wound in a rush of air, Dean feeling the breeze at the back of his neck. 

He pushed the girl off of him and looked around, finding all the windows were closed. "Cas?" Dean called, his eyes gleaming in futile hope. He quickly got dressed and ran outside, the cold morning air biting at his cheeks, stinging them red. "Cas?" He called out again in desperation. All he got in return was silence, a deafening, heart-wrenching silence. Dean sank to his knees, the cold freezing his tears as they rolled shamelessly down his face. "I'm sorry, Cas," Dean yelled into the wind. "I know I fucked up and I'm sorry. I need you, Cas. I'm a selfish asshole who needs you after all the shit I put you through." His voice came out choked and hopeless, lost to the roaring rush of the breeze. "I love you, Cas. Please, come back to me." 

 

But the angel never showed and Dean found himself at the tattoo parlor the next morning, a new name added to his list.


End file.
